


your mouth is poison

by ThisJoyAndI



Category: Glee
Genre: F/M, I don't even know okay, I'm just so emotional about these two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 07:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4382090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisJoyAndI/pseuds/ThisJoyAndI
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(your mouth is wine)<br/>They're sixteen, they're seventeen, they're eighteen, they're twenty, they're twenty-four. And they love each other, even when they don't. 'When his arms tentatively wrap around the small of her back, she weeps harder, because this, this feeling of being whole, this is what she’s been missing all year long, this is the hole she has been trying to fill by being with Sam, by being with Finn.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	your mouth is poison

She’s sixteen, she gives up her baby, and her entire body, her heart, her soul, every single little part of her hurts.

He’s sixteen, he agrees to give up his baby, and he swears his heart has broken.

All he wants to do is cry, but Quinn’s crying, her face buried against his neck, so he doesn’t dare let the tears fall. He has to stay strong for her. So he buries his grief deep down, into some dark recess he’ll only dare to touch more than a year later.

All she wants to do is hold her baby, but she only got to hold her for a few fleeting hours, so she holds Puck instead. He’s warm and the skin of his neck is soft, and for a moment she can fool herself into believing she’s holding Beth.

They hold each other tight on her tiny hospital bed, Quinn’s blonde head buried into Puck’s neck, her tears falling down his back, and it’s altogether too traumatic for either of them to properly comprehend. 

They’re sixteen, and they’ve given up their baby. They know it’s the best thing to do not only for her but for themselves, but knowing that does not make it hurt any less.

\---

She’s seventeen, her baby’s a year old, and she’s trying desperately to get back on top. Captain of the Cheerios once more, top of the social strata, she pretends like nothing has changed – because if she pretends hard enough, surely it will become true. And she wants it to be true. 

He’s seventeen, his baby’s a year old, and he’s trying desperately not to screw up his entire life. Thrown into juvie, failing almost all of his classes, he can’t pretend like nothing has changed – because if he does, he might forget what happened last year. And he can't forget what happened. 

All he wants to do is talk to Quinn, tell that he’s sorry for making her go through such pain, such agony, but she barely looks at him, avoiding his gaze in Glee club, in the halls. She’s back with Finn now, and one would think nothing has changed at all from last year. No baby, no confessions of love. No summer spent together trying to combat the pain they both felt from giving Beth up. Nothing, _nada_. He should have expected it. Some part of himself did expect it, but it still hurts nonetheless.

All she wants to do is talk to Puck, yell at him for ruining her life, but she can barely stand to look at him. Beth has his eyes, and when she looks at him all she sees is their daughter. So she dates Sam and then gets back with Finn, because they’re both the safest option, instead of telling Puck that no matter how much it might still hurt, she’s glad he got her pregnant, that she’s glad he loves her, because she loves him too, so very much. But she’s never been that brave so she ignores his gaze, ignores his text messages, and focuses on piecing her life back together. 

But when Beth’s first birthday comes around she stops pretending like nothing has changed and seeks him out in the boys’ locker room after football practice, his uniform still on and beads of sweat plastered to his forehead. She wants to laugh, because she was the one sweating like that this time last year, but when she opens her mouth a sob escapes instead. She pulls him close to him regardless of his sweaty condition, and when his arms tentatively wrap around the small of her back, she weeps harder, because this, this feeling of being whole, this is what she’s been missing all year long, this is the hole she has been trying to fill by being with Sam, by being with Finn. 

They’re seventeen, their daughter’s a year old today, and they haven’t seen their baby girl in three hundred and sixty-three days.

It sucks worse than she could ever describe, but as Puck lets her weep in his arms, his breath hot on the top of her head, the pain subsides to something much more tolerable.

\---

She’s eighteen, her baby’s two years old, and she’s in the hospital yet again.

He’s eighteen, his baby’s two years old, and Quinn’s been hit by a truck.

He can barely comprehend what Rachel is saying as she stands in front of him in her white gown, a tie tight around his neck and his hair combed back, all ready for his best friend’s wedding. It sucks that Quinn refused to come, but hey he saw it coming, because she’s never been one for teen weddings. Two years ago, when he tried to tell her that he’d marry her if she wanted him to, that they could get married and raise Beth as a real family, she’d laughed in his face and shoved him off his bed. _Talk to me when we’re in our twenties,_ she told him, and he foolishly agreed, foolishly believed that they’d still be together after there was no Beth to link them, two lost souls desperately in need of comfort.

It sucks that she wouldn’t put aside her personal feelings to come and support her friends, but god it’s sucks so much worse when Rachel tearfully tells him that Quinn, the mother of his children, the woman he’ll always love, no matter how much he’s an idiot and screws things up, no matter how much he tries not to love her, has been hit by a truck.

Childbirth was probably easier, less painful, than being in a car accident, now that she can compare the two situations. When she wakes up, her head groggy and eyes blurry, there’s a figure half collapsed over the bed near her feet. She tries to move them to poke the figure, to wake them up and sleepily demand what they’re doing here, but she can’t move her feet.

Quinn can’t move her legs at all. 

So she screams, screams, screams, and the figure jolts awake. His hands come down to rest on her shoulders, pinning her writhing figure to the bed and he tells her forcefully to _calm down, please Quinn just calm down, just breathe, come on breathe with me_. She inhales and exhales sharply along with him, the knowledge learnt from her Lamaze classes still there somewhere in the recesses of her mind, and eventually she does calm down.

But Puck’s hands don’t move away from her shoulders, his eyes don’t shift their gaze away from her own, and when he tells her that she’s been in an accident, that it’s unlikely she’ll ever walk again, she understands why, screaming and sobbing until her throat is raw.

They’re eighteen, their baby’s two years old and once again far away from them, after being so close for so many months.

Quinn’s been in an accident, and her legs don’t work, but as Puck holds her tight to him and promises that it’s all going to be okay, for some reason she believes him.

\---

She’s twenty, her baby’s four years old, and Puck has just told her that she’s his soulmate.

He’s twenty, his baby’s four years old, and he’s finally summoned up enough courage to tell Quinn Fabray exactly how he feels for her, how he’s felt for her since the day he saw her on the football field, practicing her Cheerios audition routine.

She can’t form the words to say it back, even though it’s how she feels, so she watches him leave, her feet seemingly glued to the ground. Finn’s football jersey looms behind her as if it’s judging her and she shoots it a glare before withdrawing her hands from her pockets, forcing her feet to move so she can chase _her_ soulmate down the crowded hallway.

There’s a hand on his shoulder, a cluster of blonde hair in the corner of his eye, and then Quinn’s soft voice tells him to stay. She tells him to stay, and with that single word she hopes he knows that she loves him more than anything, has loved him since the first day she saw him, rounding off from a cartwheel and landing triumphantly to meet the gaze of a football player, his gym bag slung over one shoulder and a ridiculous Mohawk adorning the top of his head.

She tells him to stay, and aside from Beth being born and his mother telling him she’s proud of what he's doing with his life, it’s the happiest moment of his life. He gathers her up in his arms, and swings her around the very same hallway that three years ago she would never meet his gaze in, and Puck silently promises that he’s going to make her so very happy. 

\---

They’re twenty-four, their daughter’s just about to turn eight, and they’re getting married, Beth sprinkling petals either side of her as she makes her way down the aisle.

Quinn follows closely behind their daughter, and when he looks at her, radiant in her wedding gown, and when she looks at him, medals of valour pinned carefully to his suit, it’s something close to happiness.

He slips a ring onto her left hand, grins at her as they are pronounced Mr. and Mrs. Puckerman, and it’s something close to bliss. 

**Author's Note:**

> I just have a lot of Puck & Quinn feels


End file.
